


To Death We Venture (Rikey)

by AuraDrax



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-13 01:48:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10503915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuraDrax/pseuds/AuraDrax
Summary: Mikey Way is the bassist in the band My Chemical Romance. Ray Toro is the guitarist in that same band. While Gerard, Mikey's older brother and lead singer, has always been the emotional and slightly weak Way brother, Mikey begins to loose  his strong outer shell. No one knows why. Mikey won't let Gerard close and stopped talking to Donna and Donald Way. While everyone in the band is concerned, Ray is the only one daring to get close. But how far will he venture to save Mikey? And who ever said Mikey needs saving?Word Count: 10,887





	

**Author's Note:**

> (While this is a one shot, I might make this an actual story. Or maybe it will be a series of one shots following the general plot. Who knows. Feel free to vote on it, my Butterflys)

Today. Tomorrow. Yesterday.

Future. Present. Past. 

Gravity. Weightlessness. 

Freedom. Prison.

Inhale. Exhale.

Breath. Don't breath.

Start and stop.

Fast forward. Pause. Rewind. 

 

 

In no way did anyone prepare anyone for this. No one told us that this would happen. It wasn't supposed to happen. In all honesty, I never expected it. No one did. Well, maybe someone did. Gerard sure didn't. I don't know who said it, but whoever did, I would slap them if I ever found out who it was. 

And so, I'm lying in my bunk alone, pretending to be asleep while Gerard talks on the phone to our mother. He is clearly upset and she is sobbing. All I can make out is my brother speaking quietly through a lump in his throat and my mom's muffled and loud crying voice. 

I never meant to do this. I never meant to make them upset. Really, I didn't. And I know what your going to say, I'm selfish. I shouldn't have done it. That I should be strong. But I don't care anymore. I'm done being strong. I've been strong. I've been stronger then my older brother. I've been his strong one. I have been strong. And I'm sick of it. I am so sick and tired of having to be strong for my brother, for my mother and father. For my friends. For everyone. I'm done. 

Smoldering in my thoughts, I mutter, "I have been strong long enough." 

In my rage, I didn't notice a certain guitarist had pulled part of my curtain back and was looking at me. "No you haven't." If I wasn't seething, I probably would have jumped up, smacking my head on the ceiling. As it is, my eyes and face scrunch in a wierd flinch. Dread washes over me once I realize my cover is blown. However it's quickly replaced by annoyance and confusion. And then by anger.

"How would you know?" I shoot, flipping around to glare at Ray. He sighs, shifting on his feet a bit. Ray's voice is weak. Tired. Not at all condicending or irritated. He just seems like this is a fact. One he wants me to know.

"When have you been strong?" I open my mouth to name all the times I've helped Gerard or my mom or dad, but he cuts me off quickly. "Not for Gee. Not for your friends or family, I mean. What I mean is, when have you ever been strong for you. When have you been kind and forgiving to yourself?"

This I cannot answer. And he knows it. He smiles sadly and waddles backwards in the cramped tourbus and then turns and leaves. He mutters something to Gerard or Frank about leaving and the door shuts. I sigh quietly and flop down a bit. I don't know how long I lay there, staring at ceiling the scowling, thinking about all the times, the countless times I have been by my older brothers side when he needed it most and then thinking of the times I helped myself. But that's the thing. That's just it. I never actually went through a problem and got over it. I just sat on it, dwelled on the pain, chewed over all the sadness and then threw it under the rug when my brother or someone else needed me. Then at night it slithered its way out from under the rug and into my head where I mulled over all the feelings. Which leads me to believe I will never get over them. That I will never be okay.

 

~×~

 

To sum up my life in the past two months, I basically had my entire life fall down. My ex dumped me just as my depression was getting worse, so that was fun. Then I relapsed. Then I got drunk at a party with Gee and had a really bad one night stand. Then my problem got alot worse and I hit rock bottom, having a suicide attempt. The public didn't know about it. Gerard and my mom decided to keep in only between the band members. Frank was against it, but said yes after a talking to Gee about it. All he had to say was that tour would be cancelled. Ray, though, he was completely against it. He hated the idea of putting our music before my needs. Or so he said. Gerard tried to reason with him only to be called a horrible brother because he cared more about his own fame then getting his younger brother the help he needed. Honestly, I didn't care what happened. Ray thought it was absolutely ludicrous that we were continuing tour and not telling the fans. He backed down with the fans idea pretty quick, though. Frank had talked some sense into him. 

The thing that pissed me off about the situation wasn't at all staying on tour or not getting a steady amount of help. It was that 1) I was right there. They started the conversation and let in ensue while I was right there. They talked like I wasn't there. And they knew I was right there. They all were guilty of it. And 2) everyone seemed to cherry pick everything. They cherry picked the entire situation which, most if the time, I was fine with, but sometimes it was just absolute bullshit. Not to mention, if it helped them, I was crippling under all my pain but anytime it was inconvenient, I was perfectly fine. Totally okay. 

Which is why, two months later, I am back to where I was. Sniveling, depressed, scared and, of course, suicidal. I was back to cutting and I had started getting so introverted with everything I was beginning to wonder why no one said anything. I was starting to want people to notice. I was getting desperate for someone to notice. I needed someone to notice. Which is why I decided to leave a note. I made it very small, written in black ink on lined notebook paper with the folded up part painted black as well. I placed the minute scrap of paper in between the cupboard hinges so that anyone bothering to open them would hopefully see the black paper sticking out. Two weeks went by. I checked it everyday. No one took it. No one noticed it.

However, the next day, when I got up to get cereal, it was gone. I didn't think I would be so scared. But I was. I am. I dropped the cereal and checked all the counters. Only I was awake at the time, it was four am, but I made no effort to try and keep it that way. I was literally loosing my mind trying to find it. Finally, feeling very scared, stupid and pathetic, I went to the bathroom. When I saw my face I felt angry. Really angry. I glared at myself and called myself names, seething and letting myself drip with venom. 

The next day, today, I went back to the cupboard. Out of habit I looked in the hinges and almost dropped the cereal. It was back. Bent and folded a bit messier, like someone has been fingering it alot. But it was virtually the same. When no one was looking I grabbed it and shoved it in my back pocket. No one could read this. Not ever again. 

 

~×~

 

It was Ray who finally noticed. Gerard didn't see it. Ray was the one who finally took me aside and tried talking to me. It was just after we were done playing a show that he came up to me.

"Hey- hey! Mikey! Hold up, man." I had been walking backstage to try and get away from it all when Ray had run up to me. I turned around.

"Can I help you?" He put his hands on his knees when he finally caught up to me. 

"Y-yeah. I think we, hah, I think we need to ta-talk." He led me back to his room. I was becoming increasingly more suspicious. 

"What do you want to talk about?" I asked when we got to his room. He sighed and pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against.

"Listen, Mikes... I just want you better. I know you aren't doing well. I know your not fine. And it's not hard to tell something really bad is going on when you never take your sleeves off. C'mon, man, talk to me. What's going on?"

He has started to move toward me. I was sitting on a chair in a corner. He was in a position to where, even if I tried, I couldn't get to the door or escape. "I don't know where your coming from, cause I'm fine." I was trying to dodge every question I could. I didn't want to talk about this. Not now. Not ever. "And I don't take my sleeves off cause I'm cold. It's January, in case you forgot." Please stop asking... "Why do you care, anyway?"

"Your not fine, Mikey!" Ray wasn't mad, but he was annoyed. However the way his brow furrowed, he looked very concerned and sad. "And I care because I'm your best friend and I care about you." Best friend... sure. "I don't want to see you go down this path again. It's not right, Mikey." 

"Just stop. Really, I'm fine. And you know what, it's actually non of your damn business." I stood to try and leave but he moved infront of me.

"Oh yes it is. Your my bandmate, my best friend, and I'm not going to just stand and watch you beat yourself up. I don't know why your going through this much depression," I'm not depressed! "but I do know it's not your fault. I do know that everything you need to get better is right here. With us." By now I was smoldering.

"Fuck off! You don't know me!" I was up in his face, yelling, trying not to punch him. "You don't know what I'm going through so just shut up! You don't get, do you?" He opened his mouth, probably to say that he did. "No! You don't! Stop trying to. I'm not depressed. I'm not cutting. I'm not suicidal. So fuck. Off." We stood there, me glaring at him and Ray looking defeated and like he was in deep pain.

"You're not okay. You're not fine-"

"Yes I am!" I shoved past him and stomped to the door.

"I'm trying to help you, Mikey!"

"Well stop! " I whipped around just as I reached the door. "Incase you haven't noticed, I don't care about what you think! I don't care if you think I need saving. I don't care about what you! I don't care! I don't! So stop trying. I don't need help. I don't need saving. What I need is for all you assholes to just stop being so goddamn annoying!" With that I turned and tore open the door before slamming it shut behind me and tearing through the halls to find an exit. I was so unbelievably pissed off. When I got out of that damned building I went over to our tour bus. I didn't get in, though, I just walked up to it and then turned around, pissed about everything. I was pissed at Ray. I was pissed at myself. I was pissed at everything I had done. I was pissed at what I had said. But most of all I was pissed that Ray was thinking of me as a best friend. 

I turned to the bus again and punched it. It didn't take long before the pain set in and I screamed, falling to the ground and holding my hand. Anger took over and I began shaking and screaming. It didn't take long before the sadness kicked in and I became a screaming, sniveling, shaking mess. With a broken hand. Finally I managed to get up. Still mad, I kicked the tires of the bus until I felt wobbly and unbalanced. And with my awkward knees it didn't take long. I screamed and punched the bus again. With my good hand, this time. I continued to punch and kick our tourbus until I couldn't see from the tears and I was too shaky to stand. I ended up curling up around myself, hugging my knees, with my back to the uninjured metal bus.

My eyes finally dried up and my throat tightened. A nasty headache also set in to replace the pain in my hand. I don't know how long I was out there, but I do know my phone went off several times and the amount of missed calls and texts was nearing three hundred. It was mostly texts. 

The sun sets and looking at the gold and pink clouds I feel the hopelessness, the fear, curl up inside me, swell, and then burst. The emotions become to much and I begin to cry again. It started slow, watery eyes, a tear here or there, but it gets increasingly worse until I'm flat out sobbing. 

By the time I'm ready to go back inside and hide in my room it's pitch dark and my bones are chilled and my muscles are stiff. The cement seat I used for the past several hours didn't bode well with my body and it hurts to bend my hips and lower back too much. I enter the building and manage to dodge all people until I have my hand on my door knob in which my name is called out from the opposite end of the hall. It felt very cliché with my hand on the knob and a concerned name being called out by My Chems lead singer. I cringed when I heard him, his feet hitting the ground and his faint breath. 

"Mikey! Hey, where ya been? You missed dinner." He isn't as winded as Ray was. I turned to face him.

"Out by the bus. I just needed some air. Sorry about that. I wasn't hungry."

"Oh. Okay." Gerard looked like he wanted to say more but I cut him off.

"Listen, I'm really tired. Talk to you in the morning?"

"Uh..." Gerard looked like he was fighting his every thought and muscle right then. "Sure. Okay. That's cool. You sure you don't want any food, though?" Yes. Please. I'm starving.

"No, I'm good. I don't want to" See Ray. "bother you guys. Night." I didn't wait for Gerard to reply. As I closed the door behind me, my brother made a small noise but I didn't follow up on it. I did, however, glance his face. What I saw haunted me and would continue to do so for several weeks.

Now locked in my room with nothing to distract me from my thoughts, I felt like everything I held dear was gone. Murdered. Everything that kept me sane was gone. Everything... I stood up briskly from my bed and began pacing, feeling my chest tighten in that way. I needed a drink. I needed more then a drink. I needed my blood to mix with so much booze I couldn't see. I needed it... What's worse, wanting that feeling but not knowing where to go, or having that feeling and knowing exactly where to go? 

I grabbed my phone, ignoring the numerous texts and missed calls I had received. Staring at the screen I hesitate. My thumb goes to contacts and then scrolls through all the letters and names until I find what I need. 

Do I really want to do this? 

Yes. I have to.

I press the name and then press call. I hesitate before I bring it up to my ear. My nerves are shot. I'm scared and sweaty. When the voice on the other line speaks out, I don't hear him at first.

"W-what?"

"I said, 'what's up, Mikes'."

"Oh. Hey. Yeah. Uhm, listen, are you having a party anytime soon?" He chuckles.

"Hell yeah, Mike. You know it. When you gonna be over?" I stiffened.

"Actually, I was wondering if you could pick me up." He sighs a light hearted sigh. 

"Your on tour, right?" I make a noise of agreement. "Great. Shoot me a text. I'll be there as soon as possible." Just after we said our goodbyes but before I hung up I heard him yell "Andy! Get the booze! Were havin' a part-ay!" I chuckled as I hung up. He sure was a goof. 

~×~

I had to sneak out. I couldn't let anyone know where I was going or that I was leaving. Gee would loose his fucking mind if he knew where I was going. Once I hopped in the guitarists car, we drove to his place. I was so glad we were touring near him. We didn't talk much on the way there. Mostly he just played music and sang along. I just tried to empty my head. When we got there Patrick was carrying a beer keg with Brendon up from the basement. 

"Hey, Mikey!" Brendon called, joyfully. This is what I was missing. These party's. These people. The lights. Noise. All of it. Once we were a set up, which didn't take long, people started filling in. I recognized most of them. Patrick, Andy and Pete, my ride, barely stopped talking to me. Pete stayed with me until his boyfriend came over and led him away. Pete winked cheekily at me before he was devoured by the crowd. With all but Andy gone, I grabbed two beers, offering one to him. We drank and laughed at Brendon who was in the middle of the room, upside down, on the keg, with random people holding his ankles. If I could hold my beer a bit better I would have tried it. At least that's what I told people. It was mostly that I didn't know if my arms could hold my up that long. When Brendon was finally done, lasting long enough for Andy and I to drink almost 9 beers combined, he staggered over to us. 

I joined in the dance party, getting pushed up against and shoved into people. In my drunken haze I didn't realize Pete had come back, looking like he had just had the best time of his life. He grabbed me by the wrist and pulled my body into a wild dance. We were both drunk as all get out and I don't know how or why it happened but somehow we ended up kissing. Full on the mouth, with tongues swirling and teeth colliding. Our lips were smashed together and I think it was the booze mixed with the adrenaline from the dance music. Someone whistled and the crowd began cheering. It got louder and louder until I pushed him away slightly. My grey trench coat had long been discarded somewhere and my beanie was lopsided. I felt myself walk forward a few steps and Pete crash his lips on mine, his hand on my head, my hands on his neck and back. Somewhere along that my hat came off and we were pulled away, gobled up by the crowd again. I was now in a black t-shirt, grey skinny jeans and my glasses. Oh, and my arm cuff and gloves.

I kept getting handed drinks, which I downed, and then had to force myself to keep dancing and not puke. The burning in my throat was starting to get to be too much so I headed to the bathroom. Several people were making out along the way. I felt for the door knob in the near black hall. I entered the room and leaned against a wall, trying to find the light switch. I felt so drunk and confused and happy. Oh, so happy. I couldn't remember the last time I was this happy. While trying to find the switch I managed to stagger and hit a wall, face first. I began laughing like a little kid, high pitched and stupid. Suddenly, two arms wrapped around my waist and I was pulled into a tight embrace. I didn't know who it was and my brain wouldn't let me think. The arms wrapped tighter and I could feel a hard prick against my butt. I figured it was Pete. Lips attached themselves to the side of my neck and I can't help but moan quietly. He chuckled. No. Not Pete. Pete doesn't sound like that... I try to wriggle away but he pushes me into a wall and flips me over so my back is pressed hard against the cold wall. With how dark it is, I can't see who it is. 

The man reattaches his lips to my neck, his hands traveling down to my t-shirt. I move my hands up to his shoulders, gently pushing. "Stop" I sound so weak. Instead of stopping he pushes against me and tears my shirts over my head. I try to pull it back down but he is to strong. "Stop" I repeat, stronger this time. He begins thrusting his hips into me harder and I am undeniably hard. He chuckles again, kissing my chest and pulling at my hair. "Stop..." I sound breathless and I don't recognize my voice. His left hand is now on the wall, trapping me, while his right is making its way down my chest. I gasp when I feel cold fingers dip into my boxers. "Stop-" I'm breathing heavy and the panic in my voice is evident. No matter how hard I push against his shoulders he won't let me go. I begin to feel extremely panicked and claustrophobic. He ruts harder against me. "Ah! S-stop." I press hard on his shoulders and earn only a growl in which he uses the hand in my hair to yank, hard. I yelp loudly. He then takes that hand and uses is to pin my hands above my head. I squirm in discomfort and try to buck him off.

"Ooh, hoo, hoo... Excited?" He asks in a husky voice. I jerk my shoulders around in a vain attempt to shove him off. 

"Get off me." 

"Mmm... No." He sings and then pulls me off the wall by my shoulders before slamming me back into it. I cough and he chuckles again. His hands go back to their original place. In my pants and holding my hands. I twist my hips, trying to get away. "Stop it or I will make you." He growls and tightens the grasp on my wrist, his palms digging into my cuts. I yelp in pain when another hard thrust comes. The pressure on my pelvis outweighs the much needed friction. The panic gets into gear and I feel like crying. 

"Let me go... Please..." The unidentified man unbuckles my belt and pulls my pants down my thighs. My eyes widen. Oh my god. No. Stop. Please. Please just stop. He turns me around and I'm too scared to try and fight him off. My hands are tied in a tight fist on my back, my cheek is pressed firmly to the cool wall, my chest is flushed to the same wall and my butt is completely exposed with my belt on the floor and my pants and underwear around my thighs. I hear a belt being unbuckled and a zipper unzipping. An alien like sound is heaved out of my body. It's hard to breath with how tight I'm pressed against the wall. Fabric moves and then a violent thrust is shoved into me. I cry out, feeling hot tears sting my eyes. He's still wearing underwear but not for long. 

"Mm, baby, you're so fucking gorgeous..." I don't say anything. I choose to be as silent as possible. However, when his boxers have been removed and he lines himself up, I can't help but wimper. My chest is heaving and I know I'm having a panic attack... I wait, sobbing dry tears, for the pain to come. I can feel time slow down. I can feel my heart beating. I can hear everything and nothing at the same time. I see my life run through my eyes. Gerard, Frank, Ray. Oh god. Ray... I feel so absolutely dreadful for saying those things to him. The last thing I see before I close my eyes is Ray's gorgeous face, mop of curls, smiling face and beautiful eyes. I know I'm crying. 

My blood curdling scream pierces through the air.

 

~×~

 

After puking my guts out, I managed to carry myself into the tub and lay there, hugging myself in an awkward position, trying not to bend my back too much. I know something was torn. You shouldn't see that much blood if something wasn't. I don't know how long I lay there, not moving, not crying, only shaking and thinking. I thought alot about how I would get home. Well, the hotel. I didn't want to go back with Pete and I didn't trust anyone else right now. I needed to find my hat and coat. I sighed a broken sigh when my thoughts came back to my bandmates. I hoped one of them would come get me. But I knew no one would come looking for me. Plus, I am pretty sure I left my phone in my coat pocket. Hopefully. If I didn't then I don't know where it is. I managed to think myself to sleep, if that's possible. Again, the last thing I see before I close my eyes is Ray. This time, he looks hurt. Like he did when I had yelled at him. I let out a weak sob before I drifted off, dreaming of horrible things that have happened and things that could happen.

I'm guessing several hours past before I woke up because when I did there was almost no noise in the house. Pete was yelling something to someone about crashing his party while another person yelled back at him. I couldn't make much out because I had a throbbing headache and I was still slightly drunk. In the tub I was starting to feel extremely cramped so I slowly and painfully worked myself out of the tub to sit awkwardly on the toilet. I let my mind wonder to how I was going to get home when a voice I couldn't pin yelled "Where is he? He came here! With you! How could you NOT know where he is?!" The person seemed extremely worried and pissed. I wondered who was missing.

"I haven't seen him all night! I'm sorry if I wanted to enjoy a party, but last I saw him was in the middle of a dance party early on, alright? Calm down." 

"Don't tell me to calm down!" The voice became quieter and I only caught small tid-bits about 'him being off', 'not okay', 'suicidal'- Wait, what? Who are they talking about? Who are they? While I was contemplating it, the door to the bathroom opened slightly and light flooded a thin rectangle on my shoulder.

"...Mikey?" Ray... He came in a bit, leaving the door slightly ajar. He came closer and I began to panic.

"Don't touch me!" I yell, putting my hands out. I can feel myself start to shake.

"Oh, my god... Mikey, are you okay?" Ray starts to come closer, noticing my shaking. I didn't realize it at first, but I had started to cry. Big, wet, hot tears. My hands started to fall and I couldn't keep myself composed. Why was he here? When did he get here? How did he find me? Out of the blue, I started to laugh. Totally unprovoked and random. I just laughed.

 

"Dance with me, Ray-" I said, standing, lopsided, and grabbed his hands, spinning him. He looked extremely worried. I just smiled at him.

"Mikey," He asked tentatively. "are you okay?"

"I'm fine! Dance with me, Ray!" I was almost hysterical. I was crying and laughing and dancing. Ray must think I'm crazy. Who knows. Maybe I am.

 

~x~

 

Ray had managed to get me out of the bathroom, which I did only when he promised me a dance party back at the hotel, and into the car. Gerard was there too, practically spitting at Pete and coddling me when we were in the car. However, after I left Pete's house, I felt exposed and began trembling again. Ray told Gerard to back off. They both were very concerned, that was for sure. I sat in the back, hunched and at an awkward position. So far, no one noticed the very obvious limp or the pain my face showed when I sat or walked. Gerard told me he had my coat and phone but said they hadn't been able to locate my hat.

 

When we got to the hotel I refused to talk with anyone and instead have locked myself in my room, wishing I wasn't alone. Gerard tried to get me to come out and then Frank tried breaking the door down until Ray yelled at him about this place being a hotel. I yelled at them through the door that they had no respect for the people next door. Finally, after an hour or so, I left them at the door, deciding to take a shower because I felt extremely filthy. When I took my shirt off I felt so exposed and scared I started having a panic attack. It took everything I had not to just break down and start crying. Finally I managed to let myself see my reflection in the mirror. Bruises. Dark purple bruises. And lovebites. All over. Covering my chest in a disgusting way. I felt so nasty I decided not even to take off my skinnys. I turned the water on and waited, feeling horrible. Finally I put my shirt back on and then stepped into the water. I sat on the floor, shivering not from cold, and started crying. 

The water eventually got cold. I had closed my eyes. I was somewhere between sitting and lying down against the cold tile wall. What got my attention was not the siren that squealed past my window. Nor the sound of a young child running through the halls and squealing. Instead it was the sound of a door opening and my name being softly called.

"Mikey...? I know your in here. At least I hope you are..." Ray whispered the last part. He came to the bathroom and gently knocked. I didn't answer. The door wasn't fully closed. "Mikey?" He called out, tentatively. He entered, slowly, and then gasped when he saw me. 

"I'm not dead, Ray." 

"Oh, god, Mikey, don't do that, I thought you were dead..." He knelt down by me, looking genuinely concerned. "Are you okay?" His hands rested on the ground, slightly shaking. 

"I'm fine. And I wouldn't leave without getting that dance party in." I tried to smile at him but I couldn't. Ray didn't try to smile. The genuine fear and concern on his face made me want to hug him and tell him everything would be okay. But how could I?

"You need to get up. Your gonna drown." Ray put his arms around me and helped pull me up into a sitting position. I yelped loudly when he sat me on my butt. I shrank back and hugged myself. "What? What did I do?" He asked quickly as he put his hands up. His sleeves and pants were soaked but he didn't seem to care.

"Don't touch me." I whisper. Ray cocked his head to the side in confusion, his hair moving about. God, he is so gorgeous... I stared forward, no longer able to look at him. I hear him say my name. Then again. But I don't hear him. Not really. I don't want to hear him. So instead of listening I turn to look at him, grab his shoulder in my right hand, my left still needs to support me, and bring my lips to his. 

A slight gasp and a noise of shock is the only thing I receive. I pull away feeling my world come crashing down around me. There is a long and screaming silence. "Mikey... Your drunk." Ray sounds breathless and he sounds more like he's talking to himself then me.

"But I'm not." I whisper and go back to my curled up position, feeling stupid and useless. Ray tries to insist but I turn to him, annoyed that he's trying to cover it up. "I'm not drunk! And even if I was it wouldn't change anything." I let my sentence fall off and I put my head in my knees. There's a long silence. I feel like crying. Why did I do that?

"Let's get you dry and in new clothes, shall we?" Ray stands, his entire entity tentative and filled with worry. A towel is outstretched to me. I don't acknowledge it. "C'mon. You're shaking. You need to warm up." I refuse to move. "... You still owe me that dance." He must think this will get me out if the shower. Speaking of which, the water is ice cold and spraying at my feet. My toes have started to turn colors. 

"But I was drunk." I state, cooly. "Which must mean I wasn't happy. Which must mean I didn't actually want to dance. Being drunk must mean my feelings are invalid." I spit the last sentence looking up at Ray. I know my face doesn't show the annoyed scowl that I want it too. 

"Mikey-" Ray obviously doesn't know what to say. So instead he sighs and mutters a cuss words. I manage to stand, with emense difficulty, and then grab the towel from him, slipping past him. "Mikey... Mikey. Mikey!" I don't answer as I stumble out to the bed. I don't realize he's that close behind me until I almost fall and his arms wrap around my waist. I breathe out shakily and then collapse completely, feeling so much fear encase me. Ray manages to keep me up, abandoning the towel, until we get to the bed. I know I'm shaking. My head hurts and I can hear everything. Feel everything. I begin to sob.

"Don-don't l-eave..." He says he won't and I yell that he can't leave me. I'm terrified and I can't keep it in anymore. My hands are clenched around his damp shirt. 

"I won't leave you. I promise." Ray pulled me up so that we were lying on our sides, me encased in his broader figure and him whispering things to me that I can't wrap my head around. Ray has his arms around my lower back, rubbing circles, and my upper back, just holding me in place. My hands are tucked in between our chests.

I don't know how long we stayed there but finally I drifted to sleep, drawing on Ray's chest with my finger once I stop crying. Never once does he do anything to stop me or try and ask me what's wrong. It's not like I could tell him, anyway. Maybe one day I will. But today I can't. It's too soon. 

 

 

~x~

 

 

I wake up to the sound of a beating heart and soft breathing. At first I don't remember anything and just let myself lean into the warmth and just relax. My eyes are closed and my face is pressed to the soft chest. I am, however, painfully reminded of the events of last night when I breathe a little too heavily and an indescribable pain ripples though my lower back. I can't help but bite my tongue to stop from crying out. My body tenses and I tightly squeeze my eyes shut. The chest breathes a little deeper and the body encasing me moves, the loose arms getting slightly tighter. A very slight noise escapes my lips when Ray's thumb presses absentmindedly into my lower back. 

 

"Mikey... What time is it?" Ray mutters. I pull my face away from his chest begrudgingly, and then tighten my eyes shut when the white light causes a searing headache. I manage to glance and the clock and have to reread it several times before it sinks into my brain.

 

"3:41. Good mornin'." He chuckles tiredly and then sighs, rolling his body a bit so that his back was flat and only one arm was trapped under me. I looked at Ray's chest as it rose and fell and I thought back to the shower. Why did I kiss him? I knew why, but I didn't want to know. If that makes sense. "Ray?" I ask, not really knowing what to ask.

 

"Mm?" I look down at the sheets between us and furrow my brow, not knowing what to do. "Mikey?" I decide not to say anything. I sit up, biting back a yelp, and then limp to the bathroom, trying my best not to say anything. Ray comes up from behind me and whispers in a very sad voice, "What happened last night? At the party?" Was it really only last night? I replay all the events that have occurred in the past three days and, yes, it has only been one day. It was only last night that Pete picked me up and... Wait. I think back to the party, replaying everything I can remember before I went to the bathroom. No. I couldn't believe it. Did I really? Did I seriously kiss Pete? I suddenly feel slightly sick and stop dead, rooted to the spot. 

I turn around quickly and reach up, kissing Ray hard on the mouth. Fuck. He moves back slightly and doesn't respond. Fuck. I press my body closer to his. Fuck. What am I doing? 

Ray pulls back, his hands at his sides and looks down, breathing a little harder then normal. "Mikey." I turn around feeling heat creep it's way onto my face and then limp my way into the bathroom. I don't bother to shut the door as I turn on the water and stand, waiting for it to warm up and then letting my body begin to shake and the panic encase me when I realize I should take off my clothes. "Mikey?" I don't turn around. I don't reply. "Mikey. I just," He pauses. "I just want to ask you something."

"Shoot." I say dully. Ray pauses, seeming distraught, and then steps closer, ever so slightly. I can feel his presence near me and even though I know it is only Ray who would never hurt me, I can feel my panic rising and begin to feel the unforgiving hands around my wrists and waist. I tense.

"Why did you kiss me?" He breathes out. The emotions have leapt into my throat and I can't speak. The panic clouds my thoughts and my fear makes me tremble. "Mikey?" Ray steps closer and I begin to feel trapped. Between me and my exit is Ray. In front of me is the shower and then the tiled wall. I can't breathe. I turn around, not knowing what else to do. 

 

"Don't touch me." I step back and get a face full of water and cough. Ray quickly pulls me out from under the water that threatens to drown me. Before I know what I'm doing, I press my hands firmly into Ray's chest and feel the force of it thrust me back under the water where I begin to scream for him to let me go. I'm shaking and sobbing and I can feel everything. See everything. Feel everything. I guess I collapsed because I am suddenly aware of the cold tile. The water stops running which stops my choked sobs from bringing water into my throat and trying to seep into my lungs. Strong arms wrap around me and I try to shove them off but they are persistent and I can't kick or hit my way out of them. Ray pulls me into his chest, not caring that he is getting soaked, and rocks me, humming some tune I can't wrap my head around. 

I don't know how long it took me before I could finally breathe normally again, but when I finally was aware of my surroundings again my legs and arms had gone numb. Ray just sat where he was, his back to the wall, hugging me, not even commenting on how cold he obviously was or how his body was most definitely numb and burning with lack of blood. I sniffed a bit and looked up at him. His eyes were sad and concerned and he seemed to be concentrating on something. His hair was soaked and it either lay matted to the sides of his face or shot up at fuzzy angles. Ray's face was still wet and I couldn't help but think about how gorgeous he looked right then, with water sliding down his paler then normal face, his dark eyes. I smiled slightly and pressed in closer to his chest closed my eyes. He breathed a little deeper and placed a hand on my head, stroking my drenched hair. He moved his fingers over my forehead and moved a few strands of hair away from my eyes that had made it hard to see. 

"I know your awake, Mikey." Ray whispered. "But I'll say it anyway. I love you." 

I moved my head up, eyes still closed, and when my face was inches from his I opened my eyes and stared at him. Ray's face was tight and red. I leaned in closer, shifting slightly in his arms, and Ray blinked. It took a while but he caught on to what I was getting at and finally, finally, pressed his lips to mine. Ray's lips were soft and full. Just as they had been the three other times I'd kissed him. However, this time he didn't pull back. This time, Ray kissed back. This time, Ray kissed me. And that, I think, made it worth the years I have waited. The kiss stayed gentle and sweet. Well, until I moved so I could kiss him at a less odd angle. I had to break the kiss to do so, which resulted in Ray gently pressing his hands to my upper sides and pulling me back down. I was basically straddling his broad hips. My hands were on either side of him, supporting myself up, with one leg draped over him and the other laying off to the side. 

 

Our lips parted and the kiss deepened. It wasn't meant to continue the way it did, but when I moved myself so I could actually sit on Ray's lap, he let out a deep growl and his hands tightened. He still stayed gentle and I loved how he treated me. I managed to let my right hand trail up and down his chest, making patterns and the other rest on his shoulder and neck. I was enjoying the kiss so much I didn't realize the water was still going. In fact, I doubt either of us did. Until someone above us made a loud thud and made the shower head jolt. I had placed it loosely on the supporter. So loosely that it fell and spayed freezing water on both of us. We both jumped and it was then that I realized how extremely hard Ray was. 

I quickly left Ray to shut off the water and grab several towels. Ray just watched me the entire time. "C'mon. Let's dry off." I said and he followed me with stiff movements. I got out to the main room and Ray followed. I didn't realize just how much I wanted him until he took off his shirt and started drying off. I walked up behind him and wrapped my arms around him, making him jump slightly. I kissed his shoulder and hugged him tighter. Ray turned around in my arms and kissed me again. He led me backwards toward the bed. Halfway there I stopped and pressed my hands to his chest, turning us around, and then gently forcing him to the mattress until the back of his knees were flushed to the messy sheets. I brought one hand to Ray's cheek and pulled him as close as I possibly could before we both needed air. When I pulled away to breath I pushed my hand into his chest until he fell into a half-sitting half-laying position. I moved down and laid on top of Ray who had brought one of his knees up to place his foot beside me. 

Our lips reattached and Ray's hands roamed my body, keeping mostly to my torso but occasionally moving to my hips. My hands stayed exclusively to his chest, neck and shoulders. I slowly moved my hips against his and Ray let out small noises every once in a while which made me smile. I was keeping the fear to the back of my mind, letting it only consume so much of my head, telling myself it was Ray. Ray. Who would never hurt me. Or try and push me. Ray. Only Ray. 

Ray. 

However I couldn't help the reaction when Ray slowly dragged his hands up from my hips to my stomach, chest, arms and then my wrists. No. My hands moved from his chest and were held above my head. No. Ray's lips moved to my neck, looking for my pulse. No. Ray kept kissing me, not knowing what was taking over my head. I felt everything that happened that night wash over me. The fear. The pain. So, so much pain. I jerked and pulled on my arms, not giving any warning signs before I was in a complete panic, basically clawing to get my hands away. Ray quickly let me go and I pulled my body as far away from him as possible without leaving the bed. 

"Mikey-" I wasn't aware that I had curled up into a fetal position and was sobbing like crazy, shaking my head and repeating all the things I had said that night. It hadn't mattered then and it wouldn't matter now. "Mikey-" Ray obviously didn't know what he had done. I wasn't wired to reality anymore. I could no longer see what was in front of me. Only what happened that night. I could only feel what happened that night. Hear what happened that night. I kept crying and repeatedly asking him to stop, telling him it hurt, begging, pleading...

I felt myself being wrapped into strong arms and I lashed out, screaming and kicking, trying to get away. I wasn't fully aware that I was yelling "Stop- It hurts- No- Please- Stop!" In a distant realm I could hear a sweet and pained voice asking me what was hurting me and asking who it was. I finally was too scared and worn out to fight it anymore and ended up just laying there, hugging myself, and repeatedly asking him to stop. 

Ray never once left my side and he never moved me too suddenly or asked what was going on or what I meant. He just stayed there, rocking me, running his hand through my hair and rubbing my back. I was soothed back down to the manageable panic that kept me from talking and made me just stay stalk still with wide eyes and think. I finally managed to croak out an "I'm sorry." Ray told me it was okay and that he understood I was just scared. I didn't answer. I kept trying to work up the courage to tell him. He needed to know, right? He deserved to know. Currently, Ray was witnessing second hand what was going on and he deserved to know why I was lashing out in such a way that was so out of character for me. Ray never tried to get me to talk. He didn't ask me what I was feeling. He didn't ask me what I was thinking. Which was good, actually. If he asked me I probably would have just ended up crying again. How many times had I cried in the past 48 hours?

"Ray?" 

"Yes, Mikey?" He asked calmly, stroking my hair. 

"I ne- need to tell you... need to tell you something but... you, you can't be mad. Okay?" I asked, looking up at him. He looked extremely concerned and told me he would never be mad at me and that I could tell him anything. And so I braved myself for the painful process of telling him. I tucked my head into his chest and began mumbling the story.

"U-um. So, uh, yes-yesterday I was feeling really bad about yell-yelling at you after the concert and so I went out to-to the bus and just kinda lost it. I did-didn't hurt myself or anything... just kicked and hit the bus a lot. And, uh, afterwards I, uh, was in need of a drink so, I, uh, called up Pete so he could pick me up and..." I took a breather to calm myself down. This was the easy part and yet it was so unbelievably hard. Why? "And, so, uh, I went there and- honestly, I only went there to get drunk- I wasn't trying to- this wasn't-" Ray patted my shoulder gently.

"Mikey, babe, calm down. I can't hear you. You need to slow down." I swallowed, my throat dry, and breathed a ragged breath. 

"So I went to Pete's place and basically just got... wasted. I just wanted to get drunk and forget what I did. I just didn't want to feel or see or think or... I dunno." I buried my head deeper into Ray's chest. "Honestly I just didn't want to feel. That's why I went there. That's why I called Pete in the first place. I just don't want to be here." I whispered. 

"I know... I know." Ray whispered. I had started to feel like I was going to cry and my breath became uneven. Ray rubbed my back and gave me the time I needed to calm down. Why is this so hard? I should be able to just tell him, right? This shouldn't be so hard!

"An-anyw..." I swallowed again. "Anyway, I, uh, went out on the dance floor after a few drinks and kinda just danced a lot and... uhm... I just drank a lot on the floor and..." I stopped. What do I say now? What do I do now? "Uhm... andsoiwentto-tothebathroomandtherewas-thisguyinthereand-" I stopped abruptly, beginning to replay the moment in my head. I didn't want to, it just started playing. I breathed heavier and Ray tightened his grip on me. 

"It's okay... You can tell me. You don't have to, I just want you to know you can. Okay?" I nodded meekly. "You want me to tell you what I've heard so far so I'm not missing anything?" I nodded again. "Okay. So far, I've gathered that you felt really bad about getting mad at me after the concert and went out to the bus, right?" I nodded for the third time. I didn't feel like speaking anytime soon. "Okay. So you called Pete when you came back inside and he picked you up and you two went to his place, right?" My in-social nod was inserted. "So you guys started dancing, right?" Insert small nod. "And then you went to the bathroom, after drinking both on and off the dance floor?" Insert small nod. "Okay. So that's kind of where I lost track. You said there was a guy in there?" I paused, not wanting to admit it for the second time. I just kinda froze. I wasn't immediately aware that I has started talking. And when I was I found it hard to stop. 

"Y-yeah, and I tried turning on the light but I couldn't find it and then before I could react he just kinda hugged me from behind and I thought it was Pete I really did and" I started talking faster and I could feel myself get amped up. The adrenaline that was coursing through my blood was making me shaky and talk as fast as I could while still pronouncing syllables somewhat correctly. Ray moved his hand on my back in more defined circles, trying to calm me. I started my sentence back up. 

"I honestly thought it was Pete. I really did. I thought he was just drunk and being a pervert or thinking I was his boyfriend or something. I thought it was Pete..." I know I must sound like the most desperate person in the world, but I honestly thought it was Pete. I sighed, trying to calm myself down. "I just... I didn't know... I wasn't... I really wasn't trying to let it get that far... I'm really sorry, Ray. I really, really wasn't trying to let it get that far. I wasn't trying..." My sentence tapered off and I looked up and Ray. He looked like he wanted to cry. 

"I don't think you were, Mikey. I don't think you were." Ray placed his forehead to mine, whispering that it was okay as I whispered that I was sorry. I closed my eyes and felt so much guilt wash over me. How could I let it get that far? How could I? Several moments of silence passed between is before I worked up the courage to ask him a question that, in my mind, needed an answer.

"Ray? Are-are you-" I didn't know what to say.

"I'm not mad at you. I could never be mad at you for something like this. This wasn't your fault, Mikey. I just want to know, what did he do?" I opened my eyes. Ray was looking at me with such pain and hurt that I felt compelled to tell him. I couldn't tell him the full truth. Not yet, but one day. One day I would. I leaned back, letting my head fall on his shoulder. I needed to get this out. To someone. Anyone. And Ray was the safest person to do that with. 

So I told him. I told him about how he had pushed me up against the wall and I told him about how he had shoved me around. I told Ray everything he did to me. Before the actual act, that is. When it came to that part, I just mumbled the obvious. I didn't tell him about the pain. I didn't tell him about how he had torn something. I didn't tell him that it wasn't only one guy. I just left it at that. I just told him the obvious of the actual crime. Ray never once questioned me. He never once got mad at me. Ray never once asked me about anything I clearly didn't want to talk about. Instead he just watched me, rubbing my back in circles and smoothing my damp hair. 

Once I finished, Ray just held me and it was clear he was smoldering. It scared me, if I am to be honest. Ray didn't say anything about it for the next several hours. Both Gerard and Frank came by to pound on my door, refusing to leave until I opened up. Ray basically told them off. He was clearly pissed and it scared me so badly I didn't know what to do. So I just lay there, in his arms, at the awkward position that was starting to hurt my back. I didn't want to provoke him or anything. Though my head was screaming at me that 'this is Ray we are talking about. I mean, come one, it's Ray! He's the most gentle creature ever known to walk the fuckin' Earth! ' But my fears drowned out my common sense. Finally I couldn't take the pain that was erupting from my spine.

"I need to move." I whispered. I gently shifted, not wanting to piss him off anymore.

"Okay. Here," Ray reached up and pulled a pillow from the head of the mattress down to where we were. "use this. This should help." Ray smiled at me and just like that, the fears melted back to their tiny corner of my mind. I shifted so that Ray and I were lying like we were the first night, chest to chest. Ray stretched his arm out and then wrapped it around my shoulders. I used said arm as a pillow, abandoning the dense hotel pillow. His arm was all I needed. His other arm was around my hip, rubbing circles in that one spot. I sighed, tired from doing nothing all day, and traced lazy patterns on Ray's chest. I was so tired and content, in some sick way, that all it took for me to drift off to sleep was Ray wrapping blankets over us and him placing a feather light kiss to my forehead. In the night I didn't dream. Which, in some ways, was marvelous. I fell asleep to the warmth of Ray and woke up to his now familiar warmth. 

We still wore the same clothes from two days ago and our pants were still damp and now uncomfortably sticky. Ray's shirt was still abandoned on the floor from the day before. Ray woke up before me, looking like he didn't sleep much last night. He smiled at me and hugged me a little tighter. Which, at the positions his arms were at was a little awkward, but whatever. I smiled back and his smile widened. He shifted awkwardly and kissed the tip of my nose. 

"You are so cute." He mumbled, looking me directly in the eye. 

"You look like you didn't sleep last night. What's wrong?" Ray sighed.

"I just found out the love of my life was just, well, ya know." I felt my heart swell and warmth spread throughout my body.

"I'm the love of your life?" Ray looked a little embarrassed. 

"Well, yeah. I mean I've liked you long enough for it to be considered that, right?" I couldn't help but giggle at how flustered and adorable he was. I wrapped one hand around the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Ray Toro was probably the cutest and most amazing boyfriend one could ever have. I just so happened to get lucky. I could have spent the rest of my days watching from afar, only observing and wishing. Having him in my arms, though, made me think I was the stupidest and most irrational person ever. 

With all my heart I loved him. I, Mikey fuckin' Way, love Ray Toro.

Our kiss lasted until we decided we needed a shower. Well, that and until Gerard threatened to break the door down, call our manager, our mom and dad, and make me share a room with him anytime we went on tour. With such a horrifying promise as sharing a room with my brother, I got off the bed and yelled that it was absolutely horrifying that he even suggest sleeping in the same room as him. I also yelled something about, ew, I really didn't want to see him and Frank fuck all night long. Frank, who was apparently next to Gerard, burst out laughing. To Frank, it was hysterical. To Gerard it was not. Ray thought I was brilliant. 

I told my brother to fuck off and leave me alone, that I needed to shower. After I was confident he was gone I was forced to brave the horrors of getting a shower. Honestly, I just wanted to stay in my clothes, never taking them off. At the exact same time, though, these clothes were a reminder of what happened. The shirt still felt clingy with sweat from that night. My cuff still smelt like him, if I thought about it. My jeans however, felt tight and hot and sweaty and cold. I could feel how they felt that night as well as now. The mixed feelings were giving me a headache and I honestly didn't know what to do. I ended up just sitting on the toilet, panicking.

Ray came in and knelt down by my legs and held my hand, asking me if I wanted to either get in the shower now or wait ten minutes. I don't know if I loved or hated him for not giving me an option of abandoning the shower. I ended up just leaning down and kissing him. I knew where I wanted to go with this, I just hoped that Ray would catch on soon. It took me having to stand up, kneel down next to him and press my hands into his chest, rubbing all over and pressing into him for Ray to actually catch on. When he did though, he simply muttered 'Oh.' into the kiss which sent me into a fit of giggles. Sometimes, Ray could be such a child. An adorable huggable child, but still a child. 

Ray broke the sloppy kiss, stood up and walked over to the shower, turning on the water. He turned back to me and stepped into the water backwards with a very lustful look in his eyes and a mischievous smirk. Though I knew the consequences of getting in the water with him, I decided to follow the man I loved into the shower. What came next was Ray kissing me with immense passion and very gently pressing my back to the cold tile and letting his hands run all over my torso. His hands fell at the hem of my black t-shirt and he pulled away, looking me in the eyes. 

"Is this okay?" I didn't know how to reply so I ended up just nodding. Ray searched my eyes and then very slowly started to remove my shirt. He stopped halfway through, pausing to stare at something, I leaned my head back against the tile and groaned. I had forgotten about the bruises and 'lovebites'. Ray breathed out, looking annoyed and sad. Then he removed his hands from my shirt and hugged me. I didn't respond at first, but then wrapped my arms around him. 

"I love you." I mumble, trying to let my body warm up to being so close to someone while my shirt is pulled up to my nipples, which are hard. I can feel Ray's smile next to my neck, feel his hot breath. 

"I love you too, Mikes. I always have, I always will." I could just feel the want ooze from my body and even though this was meant to be a meaningful moment, I honestly just wanted his hands on my body, lips on mine and hips pressed to mine. I moved us around so that I was now the more dominant one. I moved my hands onto Ray's chest, leaning my face in so that our lips were almost touching. Barely centimeters apart. 

"Fuckin' hell, Ray. Just kiss me, already-" It didn't take long before my lips were crashed into by Ray's fuller ones. After that, the shower went by in a tangle of pleasure and intimacy only achievable when you truly love someone. The dirtiest it got was when Ray started kissing down my hips. We kept it pretty clean. Though the fact that we were in a shower might have helped.

 

~x~

 

 

"I don't know if I'll ever be okay. I don't know if I will ever out grow my fears. I know it took several years for me to be fully okay with that full-on stuff. There are still times when I wake up crying or just have an episode during something. But no matter what it is, when it is, Ray is always there for me. He is always by my side. Before Ray and I got together, we were best friends. I mean, we fuckin' toured together for years, in a cramped ass tour bus. It was the worst fun." I laughed slightly. "Fuck, I miss him. I wish he was here right now, but..." The interviewer nodded and asked me one last question.

"I know that you and Gerard are still very close but how close are you to Bandit? Do you see each other very often?" I sighed, thinking. 

"I'm an uncle, now, which means I can never spend to much time with her. But, uh, she is so great. We Skype them every week when we can't get together. We Skype Miles and the girls every other week too, so. We're pretty close with everyone from both Frank's band and Lindsey's band." I thought back to when Ray would pick Bandit up on his shoulders and run through the house, pretending to be an airplane. I miss him so fucking much right now and I wish he could be here, but I keep telling myself that things are better this way, that my husband is never too far away from me. The kids have grown up so much. Gerard has. Frank has. I have. Everyone has. It still surprises me that My Chemical Romance is still relevant. Even now. It's just funny, too me. A band, that was started by a couple of kids who wanted to get away from school, could turn out to be this is just so unbelievably amazing.


End file.
